


Word of Your Body

by tooberjoober



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Crossover ish, M/M, Minor Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-11
Updated: 2016-02-11
Packaged: 2018-05-20 12:03:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6005221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tooberjoober/pseuds/tooberjoober
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Oh, you're gonna be wounded. Oh I'm gonna be your wound.<br/>Nothing could ever be perfect. No one could come out completely unscathed. Sam and George both knew one of them was going to break.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Word of Your Body

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Best Interests](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5693710) by [Lavosse](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lavosse/pseuds/Lavosse). 



> A really self-indulgent song fic based on the song, Word of Your Body (reprise) from Spring Awakening. Reference to stuff that Lavosse wrote, their Farmer Abroad series (if you haven't already read their stuff go do it!)  
> Hope you enjoy it!

_Come cream away the bliss._ _Travel the world within my lips_

Samuel didn’t know what to say anymore. The trip and the castle had left him breathless, but nothing could take away his breath more than the man he had encountered in the hall. He was gorgeous, frightfully so. And here this man was closer than nearly anyone had ever gotten to Sam.

Sam was pinned against a wall. A strange, albeit handsome, man was kissing him roughly. He found a moment of clarity in the passionate grip of that man.

_Fondle the pearl of your distant dreams._ _Haven’t you heard the word of your body?_

A moment of clarity. Pressed against that wall. The attention of a man, a king, focused entirely on him. Samuel knew something was wrong. This shouldn’t be happening.

“Thank you for your service sir.”

A dinner turned into another kiss. Another kiss into another dinner. The cycle of bliss continued on, with Sam hoping that he wasn’t doing the wrong thing and hoping even more that the king wasn’t using him.

_Oh, you’re gonna be wounded._ _Oh, you’re gonna be my wound._

Corrupted…George had corrupted him. He squeezed his eyes shut and ordered Sam out of the room. But the word continued to run through his mind.

Later he ordered someone to find the bishop, his bishop. “Bring him to me.” He ordered.

“Are you meeting him in the throne room?”

“Just bring him here.”

_Oh, you’re gonna bruise too._ _Oh, I’m gonna be your bruise._

Sam entered the king’s chamber and before the door had fully closed on it’s own, he was pinned against it. George’s lips were on his neck, kissing, biting, and sucking. Sam let out a small moan. He had never felt like that before.

“How corrupted are you now?” George growled into Sam’s skin.

“G-George!” Sam exclaimed. He clapped his hand over his mouth. “I mean your majesty…”

_“Oh God…”_ Sam’s heart was still racing.

_“I know.”_ George rolled over in the bed to face Sam. _“When we look back thirty years from now, tonight will seem unbelievably beautiful.”_

_"A-and in the mean time?"_ Sam stuttered out.

_"Why not?”_ George smiled, caressing his newfound lover’s face.

Sam couldn’t believe what had happened. What had happened? After he had said his majesty’s name…and now everything was different.

_“When I came here this evening I thought we’d only talk.”_ Sam admitted, fidgeting slightly in the bed.

George frowned. _“So are you sorry we?”_

_“No! I love you George, as I have never loved anyone.”_ Sam blurted out, his face growing redder than he thought it could.

_“And so you should.”_ George responded tilting Sam’s face up for one last kiss.

_Oh I’m gonna be wounded._ _Oh I’m gonna be your wound._

_Oh you’re gonna bruise too._ _Oh gonna be my bruise._

The next morning, Sam woke up in that bed. In his bed. A chill ran down his spine as he realized what had happened. His body felt like fire. He jolted upward, startled.

“Good morning, Sammy.” George smiled from where he was finishing getting dressed. George walked over to Sam and grabbed his chin, tilting his head up and kissing him. Sam found himself stunned more this time than he was even in their first encounter.

George pulled away and smiled down at Sam. “I see I’ve left my mark on you.” He teased, poking at a bruise on Sam’s collarbone. Sam winced slightly, staring up at George in awe. George didn’t seem to notice. “I have to go soon, your clothing is somewhere around here.” He said thoughtfully. “If you’d like I can call someone to bring some of your clean clothes.”

Sam blanched at the thought of someone else coming in here and knowing. He shook his head vehemently. “No. No. It’s fine.” He insisted. “Um…your highness?” He muttered, pulling the bed sheets up to his chest. “No one will know right?”

A small frown graced George’s face. “Does it bother you?” He asked.

“I…” Sam trailed off, fidgeting under the covers.

“I see.” George said, his frown growing. “I must be going.” George turned and headed for the door.

“Your highness.” Sam exclaimed jumping from the bed and chasing after George.

“Put some clothing on.” George snapped, closing the door with a sneer.

_Oh, you’re gonna be wounded. Oh you’re gonna be my wound._

It was Sam’s last day. He hadn’t spoken to the king since the aftermath of their night together. He began to pack up his things, dreading the trip back home. He wondered if George was going to try to talk to him. He shook his head.

“You’re being ridiculous, Sam.” He muttered to himself. “It’s not like he actually cares about you. You were just some game to him.” He sighed.

The bedroom door opened and George walked in, acting like the calm before the storm. “Samuel.” He greeted the other, quickly walking over to Sam. He grabbed his face and, running his thumbs over Sam’s cheeks. “Do you realize the punishment for lying to the king?” George asked, his voice soft.

“Excuse me? Your majesty, I don’t believe I-”

“ _I love you, George!”_ George mocked Sam’s voice. “ _As I have never loved anyone!”_ He rolled his eyes, his grip on Sam tightening enough so that he noticed, but not enough that it hurt. “What a load of shit.” He muttered. “You didn’t have to say it.”

“I-I wasn’t lying!” Sam stuttered out.

“Then what was happened the next morning? Why didn’t you want anyone to know? They can’t do anything about it!” George demanded.

“I-I don’t know! I just felt…” Sam tore his eyes away from George’s. “like it was wrong.”

“Who cares if it’s wrong, Sam?” George exclaimed. “That first day…I felt something. Something like I’ve never felt before. I kept feeling that whenever I saw you. I’m feeling it now.” His grip softened, and he caressed Sam’s face.

“Lust.” Sam argued, although his knees were going weak at his gentle touch.

“I know what that is.” George shook his head. “This is different. I think it’s…” He didn’t say it, but the word was in the air.

Sam stood on his toes and kissed George gently. George soon fell into the kiss, and this seemed to be far from the truth for him. Sam kissed him as if he was afraid that George would shatter, George kissed him like he was hoping to break him.

_Oh you’re gonna bruise too. Oh I’m gonna be your bruise._

Sam boarded the ship. Several bruises hidden under his clothing, each of them a reminder that his heart belonged to someone. A promise that he would be called upon again soon, a hope that considerably lightened the load on his chest. A fear of the ocean somewhat overcome by the hope of his return.

George sat on his throne, silently wishing that he had been able to leave Samuel with one final goodbye. He wished he could just keep him, but Sam had refused, with the compromise that he would return again.


End file.
